


heaven is a place on earth with you

by solargav



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, alternate universe but loosely following smp lore outlines, ghostbur is wilburs twin!!!!, updates will probably be a bit varied with this im beary sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solargav/pseuds/solargav
Summary: "I like this player. It played well. It did not give up."Philza found the greatest adventure in the family that revived in new lives to keep him company once again. But he knew better than anyone, it was tough to be a good dad when you had already failed so many times."and the universe said I love you because you are love."
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Phil Watson & Everyone, Philza & Everyone, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Kudos: 13





	heaven is a place on earth with you

**Author's Note:**

> a long winded way to say that philza minecraft invented minecraft.

The universe. They, it, are the ultimate creator. Making worlds and people, heroes for these said people, and making those people into victims of great tragedies.   
They made gods, giving a way for people to look up and bless the creators in an easier way to understand. So that the people understood that the universe loved them, making history and of itself for them. That the universe was dependent on the people, was the people and for the people. That the universe loved itself in every detail it was found in every person.

Their first was Philza, a person but a god gifted with the universe’s specialty, creation in its exact trade. First, Philza was not known to pull the levers upstairs but to dream of his world. Resting before starting life as an example for it to be built for others.   
So there he was, the universe building itself. Unaware that his world was infinite, every new step was made with his own power, it would only end at the edge if he willed it or if he too, ended at that edge.

He woke up and set off for food, thinking that the weed, that he would lovingly call wheat, tasted bland. Until, one day, he would mix it with many other ingredients that his garden of world yielded to make bread. He would find it delicious, a word he didn’t know why he understood, and would have it as a favorite gift to share with the people later in his godly life.   
He learned how to craft, to build with his creations, to give and love the world and what it provided. He was not a god then, but he was what he believed as himself. Normal, adventuring and thriving off land. Under a universal definition, he started the universe as a person in the beginning. 

He would have been a hero, learning how to slay monsters that only wished for their own safety, learning that not all needed to be killed but that they provided usefulness.   
Learning how soft a cat was when they pushed onto your chest for a nap after fending from the green amalgamations that were, for a lack of better words, explosive. Learning while it was the color of those creepers but as well as the color of leaves and the earth, green was his favorite color. He could incorporate it in everything, his new clothes that had been freshly seamed while the bees worked for their queen, where dyed in the most brilliant use of greens.

And the universe loved him, easily. He was perfect down to every little detail the universe learned of itself in him. A perfect start, the one to start it all.   
But he was lonely, even as other gods began to flood his home with their different abilities. Those being tasks that eased his weighted shoulders and let him smile at them when they showed him their most recent celebration. He was the beginning, he would guide them. Father to time and father to gods, they looked up to him as if to gain approval that they seemed not to realize they already had and did not need to be a success. 

But he was lonely, as they easily became as busy as him. They were terrible at playing favorites, picking what type of trees their favorites were and subsequently choosing a favorite biome and subsequently becoming the patron god to different peoples. It separated them, starting arguments when their peoples fought, feeling the urge to protect them. Looking to Philza for the approval of one of their sides. Philza, who always decided he was the best at staying neutral. Perhaps because of his distance, not being able to connect to them.   
Because he was lonely, a fact the universe saw and felt deeply within every atom.

He was lonely, looking onto his people. Those who trusted him, as if it was a snow globe.   
Imaging his life inside it, missing the adventure, the beginning.

Philza wished he could teach the people how to fly, he always had his wings. Yet, he hadn’t known how to use them for a long time. He would wash them every time he was at the pond at his favorite farm, once he had learned how they unfolded and tiered into what felt like three separate pieces. He never looked for the name of it but knew it was something like the beetles he was too polite to move from his vegetables. However, the people were too heavy. He had learned it specifically from Skeppy, a younger god who determined unlike birds, that their bones weren’t hollow.   
That didn’t make much sense to Philza because he was certain that he was too sturdy to have hollow bones. But quickly remembered, that he wasn’t a person. He didn’t follow their laws of their sciences and knowledge no matter how much he learned from watching over them.

Though the thought made him sad no matter how long after the conversation, his people lived in the mountains, cold with snow but the love they carried in their families called villages was warm enough that they weren’t in danger from even small shivers. The sky was so big though, over the peaks and flats of cliffs. It was so large and took up so much of their views in life. It was a shame he had yet to be able to give them the confidence to try. Perhaps a hang glider, something with its own wings that just sailed like the boats of Bad’s oceans. But in the sky. With the clouds. With him. 

The universe smiled, the glimpse of an idea in Philza’s head. One that would be easy to allow.   
-

Philza had set foot on the plush grass, he was only to stay for what would be one week for the people. He noticed that he felt heavy, his body being affected by the terra’s rules. He folded his wings in, adjusting his clothes so there was no uncomfortable layer between them and also overlaying his cloak. His appearance was slightly changed to help disguise the natural flow he carried which made him too light, almost levitating at every turn of his heel.   
He was at the edge of a smaller forest, mostly used for the hunters that lived within the village hugging the loose border. It was best to play it careful, he was absolutely not the patron of this region. The land was much too hot for it to ever produce his loved snow but he was known in the prayer besides their own divine savior, Eret. It did not mean however, that he wasn’t excited for normal interaction and their courting rituals of friendships. 

Philza pulled his hood closer over his hair, a shade duller than the normal strands that had been gifted from the sun and creation themselves. And smiled, despite the foggy disposition of the birch trees that shied from him, and the bear trap. That had been set off a few feet away by different sets of scrambling feet and a hushed gasp. It brought concern and confusion to his eyes but kept the smile, not by choice yet simply from knowing the sound of hiding. Something he had previously known by heart from his own body language that had been mirrored back to them.

‘In the gods’ image.’

Past the bear trap, he lightly rests his hand against the aching bark of the old tree, waiting and reacting.

There.  
A bush, tripped over knotted roots. Leaves rotting with their own heavy breaths heaving concern under the speculation of the god who had basically fathered their mother. The bushels knew that Philza knew what they were hiding, and that what they were hiding knew they weren’t hidden. And that Philza felt it all, in every speckle of green and browns in the leaf veins that reached his eyes. Nature was always so nervous, it had no poker face compared to the lava and rock, even better than the Nether. Philza also saw how the bush basically quivered at the quiet sound of a harsh exhale and vibration of shaky hand gripping at the calloused and flaking roots.

He leaned off the tree’s support and took his left hand to brush back branches that showed their poorly hidden secret. Two boys, very different in details you could pick to describe them as. Though strange as both the forest and Philza read the situation of having a third, unimportant in the matter currently as he could confirm they were nervous. The heat not too harsh for someone who lived in the climate naturally to be so sweaty. The second boy, his hair fair to pink against the brunette’s to be natural outside of a Nether tribe. He certainly could handle weather worse than this.  
They probably saw him land, but his concern for being known seemed to melt the more as he took in the concept of seeing the young adventurers. 

“Hello.”  
The one pink and scarred, tightened his hold on the cloak of brunette’s cloak and was unafraid to let out a sneer. To which, Phil did his best not to let out a giggle at the reaction, it would probably be terrifying in their eyes’ context.  
The brunette had yet to look at him, only feeling from the fear he fed off of the other.  
But at the voice, free from ill intent, he had turned. Smiled. And gleamed in the way you only read in the people’s romance novels that lay in Eret’s library.

Immediately, the concept of a third came back. A quick rustle from a different bush many feet away far from the forest path’s opening. Even quicker than that, it was bounding towards the interaction. Having seen the brunette’s face in such an optimistic light, was another image of him that smiled even louder that the younger gods would have perhaps been partially deafened. 

“Ghostbur, you can’t just do that you are so lucky that it’s th-”  
“God of the beginning! Oh, you seem q-”  
“Don’t talk to him.”

The voices had overlapped not letting there be room for the others to even finish other than the one full of warm tones. Their new addition had seemed bummed, his feelings were caught so easily in the new conversation while even Philza was slightly delayed in the audio. 

“Oh but Techno, the Eret loves him. Says he made bread!” This brunette was cheerful, which was much more welcomed than the antagonistic and worry taste in reactions from the ones still crouched in the bush’s hold.  
Turning his head to the comment on the fact, Philza’s voice clear with an accent somewhat similar to the two possible twins, “I did, have you had it with the honey or the chips they make from the jungle beans?”

It was a proud fact, something he wore extremely proud. Of course, he had certainly done much harder things but bread was so filling even if you had no need to eat, just wanting something for your appetite and not having to worry about any new hunger on the walk back home. 

Philza leaned back from the bush after his small question, so that the duo could stand up and get out of the poking sticks and leaves that would reach for their eyes like hair that had gotten too long. Before turning to look at the two lads that were getting up, he took in the appearance of the happy one who was certainly joyous. His cloak was made out of some hide close to leather and had been dyed blue. There were a few patches that could have been from many things like wrong potion combinations for instance.   
A small deduction from the charred black of his fingertips that had the leaves curling away from him yet still reaching for his attention with a fancy. Other than his hands, the rest of him seemed quite translucent against the heavy colors of the mentioned leaves. He was tall but skinny, he probably had never had bread with anything special even close to honey or jungle beans. 

The one adoring blue as much as he did when he was young with green, was almost the exact same as the other brunette like they had followed a blueprint. The other wore a small cap that didn’t tuck all of his hair back and a baggy old coat that seemed to only be alive for a sole reason of being an old gift.   
How had these two been allowed by the Eret just to slip by? Were they from a different faction?

It didn’t matter in the moment, soon remembering the one who’s appearance simply demanded the most serious attention. He was met with a scowl as soon as the last boy recognized Philza finally had turned to analyze him and gave a threatening glimpse of a small blade that was certainly shown with ill intent and purpose.

The boys stood together like family, like brothers that seemed in shambles and a mess. Like they were running and Philza would damn himself if he let them be caught.  
While Eret had not, he had found them. There had to be reason for it.

-

“Day 01; The first 14th of Harvest,  
The three I met know who I am, they seem to heir from Eret other than the one who is not brothered by blood. Their names are Wilbur and “Ghostbur,” the twins. And the elder of the trio is Technoblade.   
He does not wish to trust me, I see it in his borrowed acts of mine. I also see how he hides his face, not willing to eat without hiding his mouth at the fire. I have gifts planned for them, they deserve to be cared for. Hopefully they can understand the message that the universe says you are not alone.  
End.”


End file.
